


The First Taste

by AceQueenKing



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alcohol, Cunnilingus, F/F, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 00:42:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8230297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/pseuds/AceQueenKing
Summary: Isabela gives Merrill her first taste of heaven.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FerindenCadash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FerindenCadash/gifts).



"Another round!" Isabela called. The exhausted bartender gave her a dirty look as he loaded up seven more pints. Isabela didn't care. They had defeated a dragon, and that called for one thing, and one thing only: getting piss-drunk in the Hanging Man.

"Mercy, Isabela, Mercy," Varric muttered. He was halfway to piss-drunk, she thought; he was sweating now, his face a bit too flush to be unaffected. Famous dwarven constitution be damned.

"Bottoms up, sunshine," she grinned. "I'm buying, and you're not letting it go to waste."

Varric rolled his eyes but took a tankard, and Isabela couldn't resist rubbing his head as she moved on to her next victim. "Good boy."

She grabbed the next drink off the tray and wondered who to give it to; certainly not Anders, she thought; he was already asleep in the corner, his eyes shut tight. She could see his lips moving, but he wasn't talking in his sleep loud enough for her to catch the words; most likely, something boring about mages.

Fenris and Hawke could go for another one, she thought, but the way that they were staring at one another...she had no interest in interrupting. Fenris was pretty, for an elf, and clearly Hawke had seen it, her hand lightly tapping his. Isabela had been the third party enough times to be able to tell whether or not a third wheel was welcome. She knew she was not—and so left two tankards to the side of them, to give them refreshment when they needed it.

Fenris ignored her, totally focused on Hawke. Hawke smiled in her direction, and that was payment enough.

Wheeling away from Hawke, she came face to face with Kirkwall's bravest law enforcement officers. She sneered toward Aveline. Maker knew the guardswoman needed something to help dislodge the stick up her ass.

She took a step toward her.

Aveline stared up at her, her expression only—disappointingly—slightly wobbly. "No."

"Oh come on," Isabela said, sticking her lip out just enough to pout. Had Aveline had any taste, she'd have picked up on it, but the dumb goody-good shook her head.

"She's had a long day," Donnic said. It was obvious that he hoped to cool her ire. It did not work. "Give it to me, Isabela. I can take it."

She put the tankard down on the table, just a little bit too hard. Aveline jumped in her seat, and Isabela hid her smirk by turning to what she dubbed the lightweight landlubber's table—Sebastian and Merrill.

Sebastian was surprisingly almost gone after just one drink; those chantry types never did last long, she thought, even alleged Starkhaven royalty. She grabbed another tankard from the bar and slid it in front of him. He stared at it as if he was being tempted by Tevinter's own black divine himself.

"Just one more," she purred, and Sebastian nodded, but looked a bit unsteady.

That left just two more tankards—Isabela slid one over toward Merrill before taking her own. Much to her annoyance, Merrill did not look drunk—the elf's cheeks weren't even pink yet. She smiled happily when Isabela leaned over just a bit too far, putting her drink on the table.

"Thank you," Merrill said, her speech crystal clear. "What a lovely gift, Isabela."

"I like to reward my friends, kitten," she said, taking a sip of her own beer. It was only mildly potent stuff—she'd been spoiled by the moonshine that Tyrais used to boil up in the boat, and something like this tasted more like water than wine. "Getting you all smashed seems worth it to me."

"Ah, I haven't been that drunk before." Merrill said, as she quaffed another sip. Isabela watched her eagerly—partially because the elf was pretty to look at, all wide-eyed and innocent. She knew that Merrill wasn't entirely an innocent, but it was a charming facade.

And the blood magic, well, that was just a splash of danger that added spice to Merrill's allure.

Besides, she'd always had a soft spot for the crazy ones.

"It's always good to try new experiences, kitten," Isabela said with a wink.

"What is this, er, drink?" Merrill asked, taking a steady sip of Ferelden ale. "It smells vaguely of dog."

"That'll be Ferelden ale, Daisy," Varric called from his table. "And the dog hair is considered a vital ingredient."

"Oh." Her lips twitched as she took another sip. She held it in her mouth a moment before swallowing. Isabela smiled; good kitten. She licked her lips, and Isabela watched them, soft and slightly moist. She wondered, not for the first time, what Merrill tasted like.

"It's not bad," Merrill pronounced, wiping a bit of foam from her lip. Isabela leaned over the counter, so entranced she barely noticed Sebastian placing his head in his arms on the table.

"That's the spirit, kitten." Isabela grabbed her hand and holds it for a few seconds—the fingers dainty, long. She'd be good at certain things, things only a woman could do.

"Bartender!" Isabela called, not bothering to let go of Merrill's hand. "Bring me a -- " She glanced back at Merrill, who had tipped her slender throat back, chugging the remainder of her beer. An idea blossomed in her mind, one that she could not resist. "A honeysuckle."

"Oh Isabela," Varric cackled. "I doubt you can afford that for all of us. It's a bit of an acquired taste."

"This one's just for kitten." She winked at the waitress as she brought the familiar dusky rose bottle over.

"Why just me?" Merrill's ears twitched; she was still surprisingly sober.

"You're not afraid to try new things," Isabela said. She laid a bit more over the table, putting her cleavage on full display. "Be a dear," she said, turning her sultriest eyes to the waitress - "and bring us two glasses."

"Oh, Bella, go easy on her." Varric said. His voice had a note of warning in it, which Isabela ignored.

"I'm an adult. I can handle myself." Merrill sounded a bit defensive; cross. Isabela couldn't blame her. She saw Donnic and Aveline sneak out out of the corner of eye, but she didn't even bother to call out to the big girl, all focused on Merrill at the moment.

"My mistake, Daisy." Varric said, before ordering another beer. Varric was smart enough to stay out of it from then on, focusing his attention on Hawke and Fenris throwing moon eyes on another another.

"So Merrill, have you ever had this one?" She would not dare to suggest that Merril was fully innocent; she had no desire to land on a blood mage's bad side, even one as sweet as Merrill. "It's quite a sultry treat."

"No," she said, her fingers thumbing the glass. Isabela shot her a cocky grin as she poured out two shots, one for each of them. She closed her hands around Merrill's for a brief second; her eyes glittered, but Merrill did not take a drink. "What's so special about it?"

"Just try it." She slammed her own drink back; the sweet and salty taste of it reminded her of the ocean. Freedom in a jar. She took a deep breath in satisfaction; she moaned, slightly, and did not miss the way Merrill's eyes dilated. "See? A nice treat."

Merrill followed her example, slamming it back. She swallowed, licking her lips a few seconds later, the tempting little vixen. "It's—It's not bad," she said, finally. "Tart, but sweet."

"It's a remarkable good approximation of the taste of a woman." Bella smiled—all teeth. She was going in for the kill now. "Don't you think?"

"I ah—I ah." Merrill eyes were large, sweet and green as the forest for a moment before she turned down to study her conspicuously empty glass. "I erm...wouldn't know. I've never..."

"Oh kitten." She reached across the table, touching Merrill's cheek. "You poor thing. You haven't lived. Men are good for one thing, but women...women are good for six."

"I'd—I'd like to, though." Merrill said softly, her voice so quiet that for once Isabela was glad not to have to deal with competing with Hawke's loud voice.

Her hand tightened around Merrill's chin as she leaned forward; Merrill closed her eyes, lips pursed, and Isabela wasted no time in kissing her. She was not a bad kisser, Isabela noted; inexperienced, but Merrill's instincts were good. Merrill pressed back against her, her lips fervent as a prayer, and Isabela answered each movement with a delicate prayer of her own.

"Wow." Merrill murmured. "That was—that was nice."

"Let's get out of here, kitten." Isabela whispered, her hand stroking Merrill's cheek. "I'll show you what a woman can do."

She ignored Varric's whoop as they beat a hasty retreat.

\- - -

Merrill's home in the alienage reminded her of home. It was small, and dark, and more than a bit of  it smelled like a ship's cargo-hold. If she closed her eyes, the shoddy construction might almost have had her believing she could sway to and fro.

"By the dread wolf, I do hope you don't mind it's such a mess," she said, her keys jingling against the door as she pulled it shut. Isabela smirked, pulling Merrill up against her.

"Relax," she purred. She ran a hand down Merrill's side; she was warm, but the muscles beneath her stubbornly modest elf-wear were tense. "Relax."

She wondered, briefly, how to get Merrill out of those troublesome garments. She had been with a few elves, but most of them were eager enough to remove their own clothes around her; Merrill, instead, stood blushing in her doorway, her arms pulled tight over those gorgeous, small breasts.

Isabela shook her head. "Were you planing on doing it here, Merrill? A doorway is kinky, but...it's a bit of an advanced course."

"Oh!" Merrill blushed harder—Isabela could barely believe it was possible—before grabbing her arm and dragging her toward the back of the hall.

"The bed is this way then," she squeaked. She looked around as Merrill lead her into the bedroom—it was, like the rest of Merrill's house, mostly bare, with only occasional clutter to remind one that someone was living here. The only exception to this was the large mirror that Merrill had angled away from the bed.

Isabela grinned and made a note of that. Kitten was far too skittish to bring it into play this time, but next time...

"So, ah, this is it," Merrill said softly. She hesitantly grabbed Isabela's arm; Isabela leaned into the contact to reassure her. "I hope you don't mind, the bed is straw, I couldn't afford -- "

"Merrill," she sighed. She grabbed Merrill's cheek and pulled out the big guns, kissing her hungrily. Merrill responded eagerly, her mouth opening with zero resistance. Merrill sighed against her as she wrapped an arm around her, and she felt the elf's rigid muscles go limp in her embrace.

"It's fine, kitten." She pressed a kiss to Merrill's throat, her hand's squeezing possessively around Merrill's waist. Merrill leaned into the contact, and Isabela took advantage, pressing tender kisses down Merrill's throat before lightly nibbling her ear.

"Oh," Merrill said, her voice trembling and soft. "Oh."

Isabela parted for only a moment, gently pushing Merrill down onto the bed. She threw her garment off quickly, tossing her shift onto the floor.

"That was—fast," Merrill said, but couldn't say much else as Isabela dived on top of her. Merrill's hands wound around her hair, thick and soft. She dared to press one hand between Merrill's legs, grinding her palm into Merrill's pearl. Merrill whimpered softly, her free hand grasping Isabela wherever she could.

"Please," Merrill panted softly into her ear, like music from the sirens. "Please, please. Please."

"Alright, kitten." She sat up, her own hand rubbing her own pussy. "I need you to get rid of the clothes if you want to go further, though."

Merrill pulled her top off with glee. Isabela watched, mesmerized by the slight undulation of her breasts as Merrill stood to get rid of her pesky underclothes. When she was done, she pulled Isabela close, her hands eagerly exploring her.

"Good kitten," she whispered as Merrill's hands replaced her own. "Just like that."

She writhed happily for a moment before putting her lips on Merril again, kissing every available bit of skin that she could find—her soft shoulders, her adorable ears, the long, achingly tantalizing grace of her upper arms. Merrill moaned against her, her fingers growing faster as Isabela nipped at her.

Isabela ignored the aching feeling between her legs and gently pushed Merrill away. Merrill was eager, but Isabela wanted to taste her.

"Is—did I do something wrong?" Merrill asked, and Isabela shook her head as she leaned over Merrill, her arms gently splayed to the side of Merrill's own.

"No, kitten. You're doing a lot right." She suckled gently on Merrill's breast, taking care not to bite down on it. "Very right."

She pressed a hot trail of kisses down Merrill's belly, delighting in the squirming sighs of kitten. She wasted no time in going to Merrill's pussy; when she looked up, the kitten was staring down at her, biting her lower lip.

"This, kitten, is how you get eaten out." She murmured before staring down at Merrill's welcoming lips. She ran a hand down the velvet, puffy lips, and was rewarded with more squirming. She grinned, and didn't break eye contact as she ran her tongue down the slit; Merrill's hand grabbed her hair and tightened it. She tasted like the sea—salt and sweet and warm.

She took her time, licking tenderly, slowly. She was careful to meter out kitten's pleasure carefully—she nuzzled her clitoris with the bridge of her nose first, before diving into Merril's depths, her tongue gently parting her labia and tonguing her tenderly.

"Oh," Merrill sighed. "Oh!" Isabela chuckled as she licked gently, placing a bit more pressure onto her pearl. Her own cunt ached, but Isabela ignored it, limiting herself to focusing on Merrill. There was sweat between Merrill's legs now; she could feel it sliding against her skin as Merrill's thighs closed around her face.

"Oh, Isabela, I never, I never -- " Merrill panted; Isabela went in for the kill, her tongue gently circling Merrill's clit as she slowly increased the pressure. Merrill shuddered underneath her. She wasn't going to last long, poor kitten; when she glanced up, Merrill's eyes were wild, surprised.

Poor thing. Isabela dove deeper into her depths, her tongue gently tasting, probing. She didn't know how Merrill could go so long without being touched like this; it was clear the poor girl needed it.

She whimpered in Isabela's arms, her body almost shaking.

"Come for me," Isabela whispered, holding off for a moment before diving back into Merrill's depths, her tongue furiously probing Merrill's cunt, varying the pressure between hard and soft, her tongue sliding between pearl and harbor. Merrill groaned, her thighs clenching as she cried out softly; Isabela's cunt ached more as she felt Merrill come beneath her, her lips soaked wet with honey.

She leaned up, pressing a kiss to Merrill's lips, the taste of her other lips still on her mouth. Merrill groaned and kissed her; her fingers gently probed as Isabela's. She let Merrill's fingers take her own, groaning with a shout as she pressed her hips faster and faster. She panted into Merrill's shoulder, her arms wrapped around her as her hips moved, faster and faster. It did not take her long to come, writhing against Merrill's side.

With the deed done, Merrill splayed out on the bed languorously, totally boneless. Isabela quickly rejoined her, laying her hand on Merrill's chest. Isabela smirked as she pressed a kiss to her soft, small bosom before laying her head between the soft, pert peaks. " I hope you enjoyed your first lesson, kitten."

"Oh I did, I did. But...You know," Merrill said, her voice still a bit breathless. "I still don't quite know what a woman taste's like."

"Oh Merrill," she said, raising her head and chuckling. "Don't worry. This is just the first lesson of many."


End file.
